


Paris, 1803

by Waffleknit_Narwhal



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Flynn is an idiot, Garcy endgame, Lucy sucks at communicating, So much angst, We're disregarding a bit of canon here, Wyatt is an ass, but a happy ending, fixit, historical innaccuracies, like all the parts where Lucy and Wyatt get together at the end, oh hey look it's Napoleon, the Time Team rides again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-06 19:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18224231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waffleknit_Narwhal/pseuds/Waffleknit_Narwhal
Summary: They said they weren't going back for him.  That it was too dangerous to keep folding back on their own timelines.  But now there's a new threat. And the Time Team needs all hands on deck.





	1. The Note

My dear Lucy,

If you're reading this, I guess I didn't make it back. Well, maybe that's for the best, when you think about what I've done in the past. To the team. To you.

We both wanted to stop Rittenhouse, but somehow you didn't let it destroy you the way I did. So if anyone's expendable on this team, it's me. Tell Rufus he can thank me later. I have to admit; I don't hate the guy.

I regret the pain I caused you, Lucy. And maybe by doing this, I can find a small way to make things right, so you can have the future you deserve. I know with time, you'll forgive Wyatt, because you love him and deep down, you know he was just trying to do the right thing.

I hope you get everything you want in life. I hope you can be happy. And one day, I hope you get to have a family of your own. And I hope you get your sister back.

There are some things in the journal, I never could figure them out but it's led us this far. One good thing in my life, the one thing that I couldn't hate after I lost my family. Never give up trying to save the world from Rittenhouse, and then maybe you can save the ones you love.

Well guess I'll see you Christmas Eve, 2014.

You know the place.

All my love,

Flynn

 

Lucy reread the note for the thousandth time and wiped a tear away from her cheek. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. They were supposed to do this together. Hell, she was finally starting to think of him as a friend and he… a sob broke free and she quickly muffled it with a blanket. A blanket that still smelled like a combination of his soap and cologne.

She had been sitting on the bed, lost in her own thoughts for a while now. Her knuckles whitened as she pressed the blanket more forcefully against her mouth to smother the sound of her crying. She couldn’t control the emotions anymore. They had _finally_ taken down Rittenhouse and then there was nothing to distract her; nothing to keep her from thinking of Flynn alone, watching his family from afar while he slowly died. He didn’t deserve that.

She sat there a moment longer trying to stuff her emotions back in a neat and tidy box in the corner of her mind. She pulled the blanket away, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She had to get ahold of herself. Today was important.

Today was the day she’d get to see him again.

**

Rufus took one look at Lucy and knew something was up. “Are you- Lucy are you okay?”

Lucy pasted on a too bright smile and nodded, “Of course. Just didn’t get much sleep last night that’s all.”

“Because we can postpone this until tomorrow,” Rufus continued.

She shook her head. “Rufus, I’m fine.” He looked skeptical. “Really. There is nowhere I’d rather be.”

Rufus raised his eyebrows but turned to board the lifeboat.

“Remember you’re working on a time limit.” Agent Christopher addressed Lucy, Rufus, and Wyatt. “Get in, deliver the message and get out.” She looked pointedly at Lucy. “No dilly-dallying.”

Lucy nodded her head once.

Wyatt came up beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go see our big damn hero.”

Lucy smiled, this time genuinely, and boarded the lifeboat.

“So you think you can do this?” Wyatt asked as they buckled themselves in.

“Why wouldn’t I be able to?” She avoided his eyes.

“Knowing what we know, how it ends…” He trailed off and made a gesture with his hand.

“I thought you hated the guy,” Rufus glanced back over his shoulder.

“He saved you. I don’t… dislike him as much as I used to.”

Lucy tightened the straps on her buckles and looked between the two. “Look, we’ve got a mission. You do your part and I’ll do mine.”

“Yes Ma’am.” Wyatt smirked at her.

Rufus turned back to the controls. “Alright. One last ride for the Time Team.”

Lucy felt an involuntary hitch in her breath as the lifeboat jerked out of time.

**

The bar looked like any other seedy hellhole you’d stumble into when trying to run away from your problems, but inside she knew Flynn was drinking himself into oblivion.

Lucy blinked; stopped in the street. Rufus and Wyatt kept walking unaware they were leaving her behind. “Hey guys?” She called out. They turn around, surprised that she wasn’t next to them. “I think I’d like to go in alone.”

Concern was written across Wyatt’s face. “Lucy, he’s not the same guy we knew. Not yet. He’s hurt and probably drunk, not a great combination for rational thought.”

“He had enough rational thought to recognize me before.” She shrugged one shoulder. “There’s no reason to think it won’t happen again.”

Wyatt grabbed both her shoulders stopping her movement. “He’s feral, Lucy. Trust me.” He searched her eyes.

“Maybe he’s right,” Rufus said slowly.

Lucy stepped carefully out of Wyatt’s grasp. “Please. Just give me a few minutes alone with him.” Her breath was coming in shallow gasps, she could feel the panic rising in her chest and brutally tamped it back down.

Wyatt watched the emotions warring on her face and felt a stone sink in his stomach. He put his hands on his hips and stared at the tips of his shoes, “Alright,” he looked up, “but if we hear anything-”

“You’ll come running.”

Rufus stared uncertainly between the two.

“Well?” Wyatt nodded his head toward the bar and Lucy hurried inside.

She stopped just inside the door. Flynn looked like he was about 2 shots away from making some very bad decisions. She sidled up next to him and sat down feeling more than a little guilty she was about to encourage those bad decisions.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye then continued ignoring her. It took a few moments but she convinced him to listen to her and handed him the journal.

There it was, the fire in his eyes she had missed so badly. This was the Flynn she had first met. Wild and vindictive and righteous.

Then the pain came. It shot through her temples like lightning. She grabbed at her forehead.

“What’s wrong?” He looked concerned.

Lucy looked up at him. “You’re a hero. I promise. Maybe the greatest hero of us all.” Her eyes teared up. This would be the last time she saw him, the last time she heard his voice. She reached up and put one hand to his cheek, the few days’ beard growth scratchy under her fingertips. “You’re going to save history.” Then she couldn’t help herself anymore. She pressed her lips gently to the corner of his mouth then fled before he had a chance to react.

Flynn stared after her for a moment then looked down at the journal. “What the hell?”

 

 

 

 


	2. Time to Move On

“I don’t know, Rufus.” Wyatt hung his head. “She’s been like this for weeks. I don’t think she’s going to snap out of it anytime soon.”

The two were sitting at the bunker table, coffee in hand, trying to wake up. Rittenhouse was gone but they were staying cautious until they were sure all the operatives had been eliminated.

“She’s got to. You’re Lucy and Wyatt.”

Wyatt grimaced, “We’re not Romeo and Juliet. I don’t think-” he made a fist and looked away, “What I put her through-”

“Hey,” Rufus cocked his head to one side. “It’ll work out. Eventually. And, um, just for the record, Romeo and Juliet didn’t end so well so I wouldn’t be making _that_ comparison.”

Wyatt sighed. “I want to help her. I want to tell her my feelings haven’t changed, but every time I get close she pushes me away.”

“Yeah, now’s probably not the best time for that,” he stood up and put a hand on his shoulder, “but she’ll get there.”

Wyatt lifted a hand to pat the one on his shoulder. “Thanks.”

Agent Christopher walked into the room, a smile on her lips. “I’ve just gotten confirmation the last of the Rittenhouse agents are no longer an issue. You’re free to go as soon as we setup a hibernation mode for the lifeboat.” She looked around. “Where’s Lucy? And Jiya?”

Rufus cleared his throat, “Uh, Jiya’s in our room. Packing. And Lucy…” he pressed his lips together and looked at her.

“Lucy is in her room doing what she’s been doing for a month now,” Wyatt finished.

“She’s certainly taking it hard,” Christopher said. “Have you tried talking to her? I made an attempt but she didn’t listen.”

“I’ve tried,” he said, “but…” he shrugged.

“Well try again. We can’t just let her mope in there forever.”

Wyatt stood up, gave them both a determined look, and left the room.

“Do you think it will work?” Christopher asked as she watched him go.

Rufus shook his head. “I don’t know. I want it to but I don’t think any of us realized exactly how much of a hold on her Flynn had.”

**

“Lucy, it’s been a _month_. It’s time.” Wyatt shouted through the door one hand on his hip, the other leaning against the doorframe. “Rittenhouse is gone. There’s no reason to stay here any longer.”

Inside, Lucy curled more tightly into a ball on her bed.

Wyatt gave an exasperated sigh and lowered his voice. “He’s gone, Lucy. God knows we all lost someone in this,” he took a deep breath, “You more than others. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for your sister. I’m sorry for everything I put you through. And I’m sorry about Flynn. But you _need_ to move on. This isn’t good.”

The door was flung open, startling him. A furious Lucy, wild haired and puffy-eyed stared back at him. “Move on? He was our friend and we just let him die! Maybe you’re okay with that but I’m not!”

“Lucy-”

“He saved Rufus, Wyatt.”

“I know.”

“He stopped Rittenhouse.”

“I know.”

“Then why?” her face crumpled.

Wyatt stepped forward to take her in his arms. He felt helpless. He thought she would miss the guy but not to this degree. Looking back on it though, he had to admit the signs were there. The looks she’d give Flynn when she thought no one was looking. His heart beat heavily in his chest.

He’d seen her a week ago coming out of Flynn’s room. She’d been wearing his t-shirt, hugging herself as she snuck back into her own room. He didn’t understand it. She was hurting for someone who had tried to kill them multiple times. But then, it had always been Lucy who argued for Flynn when he’d been obstinately against bringing him on board. It had been Lucy who initially reached out to him. So now, of course it was her who was affected the most by his death.

Wyatt stroked her head as she took a few deep breaths against his chest. Her shaking subsided and she just stood there, letting him hold her.

He wanted to tell her how he felt. He wanted to be there for her but Rufus was right. The timing wasn’t right. He needed to let her grieve. Then maybe, after a while, she’d let him get close again.

She mumbled something.

“What?”

Lucy lifted her head. “I’m going to get him back.”

He searched her eyes, “We’ve already risked going back to our own timelines once. We can’t do it a second time. It’s too dangerous.”

That’s when he saw it, gazing past her into her room; schematics of the lifeboat, the controls, notes on the date and location of Flynn’s death, calculations on the effects of prolonged exposure to one’s own timeline folded in on itself. He let go of her and stepped into the room.

“Lucy, what is this?” He turned to her.

“Jiya’s been teaching me how to pilot it.”

“ _Jiya_ ,” he took a step forward, “is _supposed_ to be preparing the lifeboat for hibernation, _not_ another trip.”

She shook her head, “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

“No, I don’t. I don’t understand why you need to risk your life for him. You read the letter, Lucy. He made peace with it. Why can’t you?”

“We have saved _countless_ lives, lives of people who weren’t even supposed to survive, and _now_ you want me to quit? Tell me something, Wyatt. Is it because you’re genuinely concerned for me or is it because it’s Flynn?”

“You realize you’ll never be able to convince Agent Christopher?”

“I didn’t say I was going to ask for permission.”

“God, he really got under your skin, didn’t he? The Lucy I know? She’d never commit treason to save a fucking terrorist!” As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them.

Lucy glared at him and stormed out of the room.

“Lucy!” he called after her. “Lucy, I’m sorry! Lucy!”

 **

“Are you crazy? Agent Christopher will have your ass for Christmas dinner!” Rufus was visibly upset.

Wyatt made a helpless gesture coming up behind him. “I’ve tried to tell her that.”

Rufus leaned in. “Lucy, this is Flynn we’re talking about. The guy who tried to kill you, all of us, _more than once_.”

“He changed.”

“God, you realize what you sound like, don’t you?” Wyatt ran a hand through his hair.

Lucy’s gaze narrowed but her retort was cut off.

“Hey so, you’re not going to believe this,” Jiya came skittering into the room and plopped down next to Rufus. She leaned forward on her knees. “I’ve just had another vision.”

Everyone stilled.

“Jiya, that’s impossible.”

Jiya looked at Rufus, “No it’s not.”

“But I thought all that ended when we took out Rittenhouse.”

She shrugged, “So did I.”

“So, what was in this vision?” Wyatt asked.

“The people looked French based on what I know from movies.”

“French?” Rufus asked. “I thought we only dealt with American history.”

Lucy defaulted into historian mode, “The French had _a lot_ to do with American history. Jiya, what else?”

 “There was this guy, a really smug bastard and there was some mention of Talleyrand?”

Lucy thought for a moment, “Talleyrand was Napoleon’s Minister of Foreign Affairs. He was one of the men who negotiated the Louisiana Purchase.”

Rufus raised his brows, “The Louisiana purchase? When was that?”

“1803, Paris. What was happening?”

They were just talking, the smug guy and another guy were negotiating price when someone busted in and shot one of them.”

“Sounds like Marbois and Livingston.”

“There’s one more thing,” She looked at Lucy, “Flynn was there.”

Lucy couldn’t breathe. She steadied herself then glared at Wyatt.

“Are you sure?” Rufus asked. He was still, after everything, having a hard time accepting the fact that his girlfriend could predict the future.

“Really? You think I can’t tell if I saw a 6-foot four-inch guy with an Eastern European accent who likes to murder people?” Jiya rolled her eyes.

“Okay, anything else?” Lucy asked.

“There might have been a Robert Livingston?”

Lucy nodded. “Robert Livingston. He was one of the men you saw negotiating.” Her heart rate picked up. “He was the author of the Louisiana Purchase. Without him President Jefferson would have settled for New Orleans alone, the westward expansion would have never happened, and Britain could have taken over the New World shortly after it gained its independence. But who is it we’re after this time? The mother ship was dismantled and Rittenhouse is gone. Who else would have a time machine and want to stop the Louisiana Purchase?”

Connor came around the corner looking sheepish. “I may have an explanation for that.”

Rufus rolled his eyes. “You have _got_ to be kidding me.”

“What?” Wyatt asked.

“He didn’t destroy the mother ship,” Rufus replied.

“It’s my greatest invention! You think I could just burn it to dust?!”

Wyatt shook his head hoping it was a dream. “So you’re saying we run into Flynn, maybe foil one of his previous dastardly plans?”

“No, this was _definitely_ the Flynn we know- knew- right now.”

“How can you tell?” Lucy’s voice was scratchy.

“He was in the bunker,” she cleared her throat and looked away, “and doing things he definitely wouldn’t have done when we were enemies.”

Wyatt leaned in and drew his brows together, “Like what?”

Jiya cast about, “Uh cleaning guns. He was sitting at that table cleaning his guns, talking to you.” She pointed to Wyatt.

Rufus was still skeptical. “That could have been anytime in the past few months.”

“Except we know my visions only come from the future.”

“Wait, I thought you said we were back in 1803?”

Jiya nodded, “We got there after.” Rufus gave her a look. “There was a lot going on, okay?”

“Okay, but why is Flynn there?” Wyatt asked.

“He saves Lucy’s life.”

“He what?”

“She’s being held at gunpoint by this guy. You’re arguing with him. So is Flynn. He grabs her and uses her as a shield against you. He points his gun at her head and Flynn fires off a shot right next to her head. It was actually pretty badass.”

They all looked at each other. Reluctantly, Wyatt nodded and rolled his eyes.

“I’ll talk to Agent Christopher.”

“About what?” She walked into the room, “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were planning another time jump.”

Rufus cleared his throat.

Wyatt rubbed the back of his neck.

Lucy pursed her lips.

Jiya looked at the floor.

“Well, uh, Agent, here’s the thing-”

“Shut it Connor. I already know about the mothership. Now,” she sat in a chair and leaned forward on her knees, “what have you come up with so far?”

“Not much, I was about to approach you about getting Flynn back.”

“Flynn? Wyatt he’s gone.”

Lucy’s eyes pleaded with him. _Dammit_. He steeled his jaw. “With all due respect we’ve brought people back before and if we don’t know what we’re up against I’d rather have him on our side.”

“Alright. I’m not saying it’s a good idea but I’ll trust your judgement.”

Wyatt paused, hand on neck. “I- didn’t actually think you’d go for that.”

Agent Christopher raised an eyebrow. “Rufus, how long before we can have the lifeboat ready?”

“Well, Jiya-” Jiya pressed her arm into his side surreptitiously, “Should be about four hours.”

“Good. Everyone get ready. Looks like our work isn’t done after all.

**

Lucy was nervous. What if it didn’t work? What if Flynn didn’t come back with them? What if Wyatt voiced his usual attitude and convinced Flynn to stay in the past? She looked across the lifeboat.

“You need to let me do this alone.”

Wyatt raised a brow. “Why is it every time our mission has to do with Flynn you insist on going it alone?” His heart stuttered in his chest while he waited for her answer.

“When he was in prison he’d only talk to me, right? Well it stands to reason I’d be the only one he’d listen to now.”

Wyatt blew out a breath. He had to agree with her. The guy had a soft spot for Lucy. “That may be true, but no. It’s too risky.”

“What if I just took Rufus?”

Rufus whipped his head around and sharpened his gaze.

“What exactly do you think I’m going to do?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. I just don’t want to spook him.”

Wyatt leaned his hand against his temple. “I still need to be close.”

Lucy nodded. “Okay. Rufus?”

“Yep.” If he had been a praying man now would have been a pretty good time for it. Instead he programmed the controls and the lifeboat jerked them back to 2012.

**

Garcia Flynn gazed through the window at his family… and his former self. God, it had been so simple at that time. Come home to dinner, tuck Iris into bed, make love to Lorena. He hadn’t appreciated the mundanity of his home life.

He took one last look before the headache quelled his thoughts. He couldn’t die here. It would be too confusing for his family, not to mention his younger self.

He made his way to the main road and stumbled along until he saw the beach. The waves crashing over the sand made soothing sounds. A sharp pain shot through his head and he fell to the sand.

“Lucy,” he spoke aloud. “We’ve finally done it. We defeated Rittenhouse.” Flynn leaned back and closed his eyes, prepared to meet the great unknown.

A familiar sound caught his attention. He turned his head and opened his eyes as a sharp pain subsided from his temples.

The lifeboat appeared on the beach next to him and Lucy emerged.

She smiled, “Get in loser, we’re going to the future.”

Flynn smiled to himself and closed his eyes again. “I hated that movie.” He didn’t care if it was a hallucination. It was good to see Lucy one more time before he died.

A hand grabbed his shirt and hauled him up. He opened his eyes and Wyatt was there. “Flynn, c’mon. We don’t have much time.” He pulled his arm around his shoulder and helped him up the steps of the lifeboat.

“I didn’t expect to hallucinate you too, Wyatt,” he was drifting in and out of consciousness.

Wyatt slammed him into the fourth seat while Lucy quickly fastened the straps.

“You guys good?” Rufus shouted.

Flynn turned his head lazily to the front of the time machine. “You too? I didn’t know I cared so much.”

“We’re good!” Lucy yelled.

“Honestly I would have been happy with just you.” Flynn tried to reach out to her but the strength in his arm failed him.

“Go now, Rufus!” Wyatt shouted.

They braced themselves for the snap through time


	3. Oh Death

Flynn was floating. It was nauseous. There was a wet cloth on his forehead. He pulled it off with a sluggish movement and heard a soft sigh. There was someone beside him. He reached blindly and encountered an arm, then a head of hair, then lips-

“You’re awake,” Lucy’s voice was sleepy and muffled against his fingers. 

Flynn took a deep breath and opened his eyes. “You came for me?”

Lucy’s face broke into a smile, “Of course we did. You’re part of this team.” She took the wet cloth from his hands and smoothed a hand over his forehead checking his temperature.

He drew his brows together and pulled her hand away. “Why would you risk that for me?”

Her eyes looked everywhere except at him but she left her hand curled loosely in his. “We couldn’t leave you stuck like that. It wasn’t right.”

“How long has it been?”

“A month and a half.”

Flynn smiled. “So not quite enough time for you to miss me.”

Her eyes watered and she threw her arms around him. “It was plenty of time,” she murmured into his shoulder.

He was startled but relaxed against her. She pulled away and he immediately missed her warmth.

“How are you feeling? You gave us a real scare when we brought you back.”

“Did I?” he mused.

“You thought you were hallucinating. Luckily, it was just the effects of constant migraines and not an aneurysm.”

“I think-” he paused, “I’m okay, Lucy.”

She smiled and put the back of her hand against his forehead. “Good,” She stood up, pursing her lips. “I’ll bring you something to eat. You’ve got to be hungry after a three day time hangover.”

He stopped her with a hand on her wrist.

She looked down then met his gaze.

“Will you just stay here a moment? I need to get my bearings. Having you near,” he met her eyes, “it makes it more real.”

She blew out a breath and nodded. “It’s real.” She sat down on the bed beside him and placed a hand over the one holding her wrist. “Maybe I need to convince myself of that too.”

He gave her a bemused look but stayed silent.

She swallowed and smiled at him.

**

“I’m the one who saw the vision. I need to be there, Rufus!” Jiya paced in their room.

Rufus sat on the bed, a scowl on his face. “You’ve already suffered adverse effects from the lifeboat. I don’t want you risking anything more.”

“Don’t you think I can make that decision for myself?” Jiya stopped in front of him and kneeled. “I’m well aware of the risks. We don’t even have a date to travel to and you’re already trying to warn me off of this.”

He gathered her in his arms and leaned forward. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

Jiya hugged him back. “I know.”

Rufus kissed the top of her head.

She pulled away slightly. “You need to trust me though. Trust _us_.”

He blinked, “I’ll try.”

“Good,” she gave him a squeeze, “I need to go check on Lucy.”

“Wyatt told me what you two have been doing.”

“You make it sound like we were doing something wrong.”

“Well, you have been sneaking around planning things without the rest of the team.”

She pulled away, “Because neither of you would listen! I had to do _something_ for her!”

“Jiya-”

She waved away his concern. “I need to go check on her.”

He ran a hand over his face and watched her go.

**

“Didn’t expect to see you up and about.” Rufus walked into the kitchen of the bunker with a slight reservation. He still didn’t trust Flynn. He _had_ tried to kill them numerous times and he wasn’t completely convinced the guy wasn’t going to go rogue again. But he had seen changes.

“Glad you’re feeling better.”

Flynn spooned some eggs into a bowl and looked up. “Well thank you, Rufus. How are things with you?”

Rufus paused. “I’m okay,” he said slowly, suspicious.

Flynn gave him a look that said he didn’t believe a word he was saying. “Are you?”

 “I guess I’ve been better.” He blew out a breath and sat down. Flynn slid the bowl of eggs to him and started on a new batch. “It’s just Jiya and these visions.” Rufus took a bite of eggs and raised his brows. “Wow, these are good.”

“Secret’s in the sauce,” Flynn leaned in with a wink.

Rufus swallowed and pushed the bowl away. “Um, yeah, I’ve seen that movie so… no thanks.”

“Relax, Rufus. I’m kidding.”

Rufus cleared his throat, “Right, okay.”

“Anyway, you were saying about Jiya…?”

“Yeah, um,” he looked at his bowl then met his eyes, “I don’t want to lose her because of all… this.” He gestured to the bunker.

“Rufus, Jiya is a smart woman.”

Rufus nodded.

“Much smarter than you.”

He gave him a look of warning. Flynn winked.

“She’ll figure it out.” Flynn turned the stovetop off and dished himself some eggs. “And in the meantime, you should hold tight to what you have together.” He made a small shrug. “You never know when it will disappear.” He picked up his bowl and strode from the room leaving Rufus alone.

**

Lucy was on her way to the shower, trying to balance a few items in her hands when she bumped into Flynn. The contents of her toiletry bag flew all over the floor.

He hadn’t seen her, concentrating on his bowl of eggs and thinking about what he’d just said to Rufus. He set the bowl down on the floor and kneeled to help her pick her things up.

Lucy gave him a tight smile and lowered her eyes. “Thanks.”

Flynn sighed and wiped his hands absentmindedly on his trousers. Was she wearing a familiar shirt? He squinted. No. He remembered the journal pages. She’d be with Wyatt by now. He gave her a half smile and picked up his bowl again.

She brushed past him and he turned following her movement. “You know I never thanked you.”

She stopped, looking back at him like a deer in the headlights, clutching her bag to her chest. “For what?”

“For saving me. If it had been anyone else, I don’t think I would have come along.”

She stared. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

He huffed a breath. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.” He hefted the bowl of eggs and walked back to the kitchen. Rufus was gone. Just as well.

He put another bite in his mouth and made a face. They were getting cold. God, that look she gave him. Was he really that frightening? Obviously they hadn’t been as close as he thought. There was a time- but no, he’d quashed that before it even happened.

 He tossed the eggs in the trash with a huff, his appetite gone. Might as well clean his guns instead now that he had them back. He set out the oil and brushes. As usual when he was doing busy work he started singing. His rich baritone reverberated through the room and travelled down the hallways.

_Oh death_

_Woah death_

_Won’t you spare me over ‘til another year?_

_Well what is this that I can’t see_

_With ice cold hands taking hold of me_

_Well I am death none can excel_

_I’ll open the door to heaven or hell_

In the bathroom, Lucy stopped brushing her teeth to listen.

 

_Oh death someone would pray_

_Could you wait to call me another day_

_The children prayed, the preacher preached_

_Time and mercy is out of your reach_

_I’ll close your eyes so you can’t see_

_This very hour come and go with me_

 

Rufus stopped walking in the hallway and turned his ear toward the mournful tune.

_Oh death_

_Woah death_

_Won’t you spare me over ‘til another year?_

_Death I come to take the soul_

_Leave the body, leave it cold_

_To drop the flesh up off the frame_

_Dirt and worm both have a claim_

_Oh the young the rich or poor_

_All alike to me, you know_

Connor’s head popped up from his keyboard.

 

_No wealth no land no silver or gold_

_Nothing satisfies me but your soul_

_Oh death_

_Woah death_

_Won’t you spare me over ‘til another year?_

_Won’t you spare me over ‘til another year?_

Wyatt stopped at the doorway and shuddered. “You know it’s creepy, you singing that song.”

Flynn looked up and gave him a tight smile then turned his attention back to his task.

 “Can you just-”

Flynn set down the gun and looked up slowly. “Can I just what?”

“Can you just stop being such a bastard _all_ the time?”

The two stared each other down.

Flynn was the first to break eye contact. “I know you’re not happy to have me back. You didn’t have to drag me off that beach, you know.” He continued cleaning his guns.

“You know exactly why I did that, you son of a bitch.”

“No. I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?” He asked, genuinely curious. The other man kept fuming. “You’re not the only person who lost someone, Wyatt.” He turned back to finish reassembling the gun.

“I’m _well_ aware of that!”

“And I do regret what happened to Jessica,” he said carefully.

Wyatt stared him down. Unable to control his emotions any longer, he stormed out. Screw breakfast. He didn’t have much of an appetite anymore anyway.

“Just like old times,” Flynn grimaced to himself. He sure was getting on everyone’s good side.

Wyatt slammed into Rufus as he turned the corner and the other man steadied him. “What’s wrong?”

Wyatt was exasperated, “We rescued the guy and he’s in there,” he glanced behind him, leaned in, and lowered his voice, “cleaning his guns and singing murder folk!”

Rufus leaned back, “I mean, what did you expect? Flynn is… Flynn.”

“Are you telling me this doesn’t freak you out even just a little?” Wyatt asked in a harsh whisper.

Rufus shrugged, thinking back to their earlier conversation. “He’s starting to grow on me.”

Had everyone lost their goddamn minds? He stormed off in a huff of air and disappointed male pride.

“What was that all about?” Jiya came up behind Rufus and hugged him from behind.

Rufus stared after Wyatt for a moment. “Nothing. Things are finally getting back to normal.”

**

“We’ve got a hit!” Agent Christopher shouted to the team.

“Where this time?” Rufus asked.

“Lemme guess, Paris, 1803?” Wyatt grimaced.

“Yes. How did you know?” she looked to Jiya. She pretended to suddenly be very interested in her computer screen. “I don’t like secrets,” she warned.

Jiya blew out a breath, “Alright. I got another vision.”

“And you didn’t think this was information I needed to have?”

“I-” she finished in a shrug.

Christopher rolled her eyes, “Lucy, April 29th?”

Lucy exchanged a look with Jiya then gathered her nerves. “That’s one day before the Louisiana Purchase is dated. It’s signed 2 days later on the second of May.”

“Okay, suit up,” she said.  

Rufus decided to address the elephant in the room, “But who’s piloting the mothership?”

“I don’t know. You’re going to have to go in there blind. But we can’t let this go.”

“Okay,” he was only slightly more freaked out than usual. “Sure that’s fine. Let’s go to a foreign country where I don’t speak the language and look for a needle in a haystack.”

“Needles are quite easy to find in a haystack if you don’t mind getting pricked,” Flynn piped up.

Lucy raised an eyebrow and met his eyes with a dubious look. He winked at her.

“We didn’t bring you back just so you can go get yourself killed again.”

Now it was Flynn’s turn to be surprised. “Why Lucy, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you cared more than a little about me.” She glared at him. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Maybe instead of worrying about me, you and your boyfriend,” he nodded to Wyatt, “should get ready to go.”

Lucy’s jaw dropped.

Wyatt looked smug.

“I-”

Wyatt grabbed her arm and steered her away. “Come on. We’re wasting time.”

She glanced back at Flynn but his expression was blank as he watched them go.

**

“Here,” Lucy walked up to Flynn and shoved an outfit that would suffice for 1803 dress in Paris into his chest. They had slowly accumulated a decent amount of period clothing and finally didn’t have to steal clothes upon arrival. She was relieved. She’d rather not rot in an 1803 prison if she could help it, thank you very much.

He took one look at it and sneered his nose in disgust. “Lucy, I don’t care what’s in fashion. There is no way I’m wearing knee breeches.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “You men and your ingrained ideas of masculinity.” She shook the clothes toward him. “Just take it.”

He plucked the breeches from the top of her pile and held up the ties that fastened around the knees. “These can get caught on a number of things.” He tried stretching the waistband. “This restricts movement.” He held them up. “There are no pockets for concealing a gun.”

“Now you know how women feel,” she mumbled.

“What?”

She smiled brightly, “You’ve got a point. Better to wear your usual trousers.”

“Oh, I never said that.”

“Fine,” between this and his earlier comment she found her temper running short. “Just get dressed.” She threw the rest of the outfit into a pile on the floor and stalked away.

A short while later, he came out of his room wearing a short black waistcoat, silver watch fob, tight black trousers that ended in a pair of Hessians, a white linen high collared shirt and cravat and a black cutaway tailcoat.

Lucy’s mouth went dry.

He walked toward her slowly, leaning in to whisper in her ear.  “If you keep looking at me like that Wyatt’s bound to get jealous and I’d rather not have this trip end in a duel.”

His hair had fallen over his forehead giving him a boyish look as he smiled down at her. She swallowed and schooled her features. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just surprised you own anything that isn’t a turtleneck.”

“Well,” he cocked his head to one side and adjusted the wrists of his shirt, “I used to have a t-shirt or two but it seems those have gone missing. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

She opened her mouth to speak when Wyatt came around the corner. He was wearing long buff colored trousers, a short cropped green striped waistcoat and a knee length dark brown overcoat. He looked almost as good as Flynn. Almost, but less intimidating.

“Ready?” He asked them.

Flynn appraised his outfit. “See?” he cocked his head toward Wyatt, “The soldier didn’t want to wear the knee breeches either.”

“Those ties would get caught on everything!”

Flynn looked to Lucy and smiled, “Exactly.”

“Um, what are you guys wearing?”

Lucy, Wyatt, and Flynn turned around simultaneously to see Rufus in a high necked white linen shirt, white cravat and waistcoat, powder blue knee breeches, and a matching coat embroidered with roses along the hem.

Flynn’s eyebrows rose to his hairline.

Wyatt snorted.

Lucy smiled. “Finally someone’s wearing the appropriate period attire.”

Rufus looked to Flynn and Wyatt then thumbed back in the direction he came from. “I’m gonna- Yeah, I’m gonna go change.”

Jiya caught him by the lapels as he turned, a smile playing on her lips. “Don’t!” She kissed him passionately.

When she let him come up for air he looked at the other men, raised one eyebrow, and shrugged. “Alright, not changing.”

Flynn and Wyatt exchanged a look.

Jiya smiled to herself, mentally taking note of the way Rufus filled out the tight clothes. She would be living off this image for months.

“I’ve got our dresses,” Jiya called over to Lucy holding up a couple of short-sleeved, diaphanous gowns.

“Jiya, you’re not going anywhere,” Agent Christopher said.

Jiya rounded on her, eyes wide. “What?”

“We’ve got five people.” She gestured with one hand, “Someone has to stay behind and it’s not going to be the historian or either one of the hired guns.”

Flynn raised a hand, “Excuse me, not exactly getting paid here.”

Christopher pinned him with a look. “I think we paid our debt to you when we saved your life.”

He lifted one shoulder. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“It’s between you and Rufus, and frankly, with your visions returning, you’re a wild card.”

She turned to Rufus, “Did you put her up to this?”

He put up his hands defensively, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“But I’m the one who knows what’s going to happen!” She turned to the rest of them. “I can tell you who to look out for.” She took a couple steps toward Lucy. “Your life might be in danger and I’m the only one who can identify the man!”

That got Flynn’s attention. “Lucy if you’re going to be in danger then maybe you should stay here.” He turned to Wyatt. “Talk to her.”

“That’s not his decision,” Lucy said. “I’m going because you _cannot_ do this without me. There were a myriad of players in the Louisiana Purchase and if even _one_ of them differs from what happened before we might not come back to America at all.”

“Alright. We’ll stay extra close then, but for the record I don’t like this,” he looked to Wyatt who nodded once.

“You’re not going to be able to keep me safe all the time. And if you’re focused on me you might miss something else. Just keep it operations as normal. I’ll be fine.” She took one of the dresses from Jiya and went to change.

Flynn stared at her intently. “This is going to be a problem.”

Wyatt worked his jaw. “On that we’re agreed.”

The two looked after Lucy’s retreating form.


	4. Requiem

Lucy had never been to Paris before. Even though it was 200 years previous, the Eiffel tower hadn’t been built yet, the catacombs were still no more than a dumping ground for bodies, and it wasn’t nearly as bright and cheerful as present day, she couldn’t help the giddiness that bubbled up inside her chest. She bounced down the street imagining she was in one of the fairytales she’d sneak into her room at night to read. It was too easy to close her eyes and imagine it.

But she had a job to do. With a sigh she turned to her three companions expectantly. “We need to find the Hotel Tubeuf. The treaty is signed there tomorrow.”

“I still can’t believe that’s what you’re wearing,” Wyatt muttered.

“Look around. I blend perfectly.” Her low cut gown was a bit more… revealing than she was used to and she _was_ self-conscious but damned if she was going to let anyone else know that. The cropped open jacket also did little for warmth and was, as far as she could tell, simply another useless layer.

“Well if you bounce around anymore you’re going to come popping out of it,” Wyatt grabbed her arm and whispered harshly in her ear.

She shook off his grasp. “Thank you, modesty police but your opinion is neither wanted or sought after.”

Flynn hid a grin behind his hand and coughed.

Rufus pretended not to hear the argument. “Uh, guys, I think this is it.” He waved them over. Set behind a carved stone gate was an imposing brick building.

Lucy stopped to admire the craftsmanship of the place then continued inside.

Rufus sidled up beside her and whispered, “This place is huge. How are we going to find them?”

“Excusez-moi. Savez-vous où est monsieur Livingston?” Flynn was asking the man in charge.

“Um, did you know he speaks French?”

Lucy turned to Rufus and shrugged.

“I am not in the habit of telling strangers my guest’s business,” the man replied in French.

“Please sir,” Flynn pulled Lucy closer with a gentle hand on her arm, “That American swine insulted my wife and I would like to set him straight.”

Lucy’s eyes boggled and her heart stuttered. She schooled her features carefully and tried to look pathetic. After all, it wasn’t the first time they had pretended to be a married couple. “Yes. A most grievous insult.”

“Really? What did he say?” The man asked.

Wyatt leaned over, “Do you have any idea what they’re saying?”

“I took Spanish in high school,” Rufus replied.

“He said…” Lucy thought quickly then glanced at Wyatt. “He said my gown was immodest and um, unbecoming.”

Flynn had to quickly hide another grin happy Wyatt had no idea.

“But Madame! Your gown is beautiful! Surely you don’t give credence to an American’s opinions on Parisian fashion?”

Wyatt and Rufus shifted behind them, impatient.

“Be that as it may,” Flynn hauled her into his side, “she’s the sensitive sort and I’m her protector.”

Lucy covered her mouth and coughed, “Sexist.” Flynn ignored her.

“Ah yes. I would like to help, but Monsieur Livingston has just gone out for the evening.”

Flynn lips thinned. He kept a tight rein on his temper. “Any idea where?”

The man leaned in. “I’m sure I do not know, but there is a ball at the Palais de Tuileries.”

“Thank you, sir.” Flynn nodded to the man and turned away. “Looks like we’ll be spending the evening in the Palace,” he muttered to Wyatt and Rufus.

**

Sneaking into the servant’s quarters had been easy in comparison to some of the other things they had done. But now, in the midst of a ball being hosted by Napoleon’s wife, Josephine, Lucy felt severely out of her depth.

Rufus looked right at home by contrast. He stood off to one side scanning the crowd. Wyatt was doing the same.

People twirled on the dance floor in time to a lively tune. Well, lively for 1803, Lucy corrected. Still, it was beautiful. “Can you see anything?” She asked Flynn.

“Nothing suspicious, but we should keep our guard up.”

“Maybe he’s dancing?”

Flynn pulled a crumpled encyclopedia page from his jacket pocket and looked between it and the crowd.

“The dancing, it’s hard to tell from over here.”

Lucy chewed her bottom lip. “Then let’s get closer.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You can dance?”

“Can you?”

“Of course. Give me a moment.”

She watched him speak with the string quartet and hand them a large wad of cash. She hid a smile behind her gloved hand. Flynn was being Flynn again, changing anything to suit his needs.

He gestured to the dance floor. “Shall we then?”

The music had just changed from a lively jig to a slower, more melancholy tune, Mozart’s Requiem in D Minor.

“What are you playing at?”

Flynn said nothing and led her to the dance floor. He took her hand in his, placing his other hand at the small of her back.

“This isn’t really a waltz,” she looked uncertain.

“That’s the only dance I know. Unless you’d like to shock everyone with a tango but I don’t think they know about that yet.” There was that wink again.

They started to turn around the dance floor.

Rufus looked on in curiosity. _What were they doing?_ Still, they made a nice-looking couple. “Uh-oh,” he looked for Wyatt and spotted him across the dance floor glaring daggers into an oblivious Flynn.

Lucy closed her eyes and let herself be swept away by the music. It was dark and slow and lovely and Flynn was an excellent lead. She opened them to check her steps and found him staring intently down at her.

“I always did prefer the Austrian and German composers,” his breath tickled her ear when he leaned in so she could hear, “They seemed to be more authentic in their feelings toward the music.”

She blinked, “You like classical music?”

“It’s a lot better than some of the garbage that gets played on the radio.” He lead them through a turn and smiled down at her, “Besides, you look beautiful dancing to this tune.”

An involuntary shiver ran down her spine. The world fell away. She was captivated by his eyes staring into hers. A million thoughts flew across her mind, then nothing. She gasped and looked away.

They continued to twirl and Flynn kept watching her. Was this what she wanted all those times she sat on his bed rereading that note? When she stole that t-shirt just so she could feel closer to someone she was sure she would never see again? When she convinced her entire team that she needed to bring him back from the dead because he was too important? Those were all just normal things you do for a close friend, right? _Right?_ She hadn’t developed feelings- Her thoughts stuttered and she stopped cold on the dance floor.

Halfway through a turn, she stood there, eyes wide. “Oh god.”

“Lucy?” He took a step toward her and she held her hand up. “Did you see Livingston?”

What was wrong? She had looked fine a moment ago. His heart beat wildly while he watched her stare at the floor.

“Is everything okay?” His fingers itched with the urge to reach out.

She looked up, eyes haunted.

“Lucy.”

She turned and fled into the crowd.

“Dammit.” He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair, taking a cursory look around at the crowd. He paused. There he was, Livingston, not 10 feet away from him. He moved quickly, grabbing the man by the arm and shoving him into an alcove nearby.

“Mr. Livingston I presume?” He said in English.

“What’s going on here?” Livingston sputtered. “I am the American Minister, sir!”

Flynn shushed him and looked around. “I’m here to help you. I think someone is going to try to kill you tonight.”

Wyatt arrived then, startling Livingston again when he grabbed the man’s mouth from behind. Livingston made a sound of protest behind his fingers. “C’mon Flynn.  We need to get him away from this crowd.”

Livingston’s eyes widened and he started to struggle.

“Would you stop?” Wyatt shook him. “Let’s get out of here before our cover is blown.”

“Where’s Lucy?” Rufus came up behind Flynn.

“She went that way,” he nodded his head in the direction she had disappeared.

“I’ll go after her. You two gonna be okay?”

“We’ll be fine, Rufus. Go find Lucy.”

Wyatt pulled the still struggling Mr. Livingston towards a balcony.

Flynn scanned the crowd.

**

Lucy stood out on the balcony taking deep gulps of fresh air. It happened again. She had developed feelings for a man still obsessed with his dead wife. She had known she felt more than just friendly regard for him, but this was more. When did it happen? She thought back to Salem. They had definitely gotten closer then, but no, it was before that.

She thought of the first time she saw him, wrathful and so convinced he was doing the right thing. Backlit by the flames of the Hindenburg and pointing a gun at her. She had been so frightened. She closed her eyes and let the feeling wash over her again, felt his hand on her waist, the scent of his cologne, his eyes smiling down at her. Taking another deep breath, she slowly opened her eyes. Okay, she was okay. This was just another thing to cram into that box in the corner of her mind, though she had to admit it was getting hard to shut.

 She turned to go back into the ballroom stopping short when she ran into an older man.

“Paris is beautiful, is it not?” He asked in French as she stepped back.

“Yes, quite.” She moved to go around him.

He offered her a drink. “I saw you on the dance floor. Did the scoundrel offend you?”

“No, I just- I wasn’t feeling well all of the sudden.” She took the drink automatically. “Excuse me I should really get back to him.”

“It’s too late mademoiselle. He has left with another man. I thought you could use some company.” He registered her wary look. “I offer friendship only. I have no designs upon your person.”

She really looked at him then. “You’re Cambacérès aren’t you?”

“Oui,” he made a short bow.

She relaxed slightly.

“Lucy, there you are,” Rufus looked relieved.

“Rufus, this is Jean-Jacques de Cambacérès,” then in a whisper, “One of the authors of the Napoleonic Civil Code.”

“Okay, I’m guessing that’s important.”

“He’s also Second Consul of France.”

“Oh!” he lifted his brows. “Well, um, nice to meet you, sir,” he dipped his head slightly. Then in a low voice he turned to her, “We found him.”

“Ah, Americans,” Cambacérès said in English.

“I’m sorry, sir. You must excuse us. I need to go find my friend now.”

“Of course, I see you have another friend to keep you company now, but will you be alright?”

Rufus looked between the two of them.

Lucy smiled, “Oh no, we’re not- We’re looking for the same man.”

Cambacérès raised one eyebrow, “Ah. Well good luck to you both, then. But I believe the lady has the upper hand.” He saluted them with his drink.

Lucy smiled and turned to the ballroom with Rufus.

“What was all that about?”

“I think,” she said slowly, “he believes you want Flynn.”

“Want, how? Oh!” Rufus was horrified. “Look, the guy looks great in a suit, but he _has_ tried to kill us a few times.”

“ _Tried_ being the operative word,” Lucy laughed then the rest of what Cambacérès had said hit her. Stuffing the feeling back in that same familiar box with a deep breath, she walked back into the ballroom.

**

They found an empty room in a local inn and deposited the now unconscious Mr. Livingston on the bed.

“You didn’t have to knock him out,” Wyatt glared.

“Would you have preferred he kept screaming his head off?”

Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Let’s just hope he remembers who he is when he wakes up.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Lucy will help him remember,” he looked out the window to make sure they weren’t being followed.

“Don’t do that.”

“What?” Flynn turned back to the room.

“Act like you know her so well.”

“But I do know her, Wyatt.”

Wyatt huffed.

“Why did you come back to get me? It’s obvious you’re not happy about it.” He took a step forward. “Afraid I’m going to steal your girlfriend?”

Wyatt look confused. “You don’t know.” He shook his head. “All she went through and she never told you.”

“What are you talking about?”

Wyatt waited a beat, “Lucy. After you… She was messed up. It wasn’t good. She was the one who convinced us all to go back.”

Flynn stopped breathing.

“I was worried about her. I couldn’t keep watching her go down that path. And now she’s smiling again.” He scrubbed at his face with his hands. “Draw your own conclusions.”

“Wyatt,” Flynn stared at the carpet.

“God, you guys are hard to find!” Rufus burst in, Lucy close behind. “Why is he unconscious?” he pointed to Livingston.

“I can take a wild guess,” Lucy rolled her eyes and looked at Flynn.

He looked back at her thoughtfully.

“Do you think, just for a moment, you could take a deep breath instead of knocking someone over the head?” she admonished.

He didn’t say anything, just kept watching her.

She turned her attention back to the group. “Okay, he needs to be at the Hotel Tubeuf tomorrow to sign the Louisiana Purchase, otherwise… No westward expansion, no Missouri Compromise, Britain could invade the territory to overtake the French, and we could come back to part of the U.K. instead of the U.S. of A.”

Rufus came up off his chair, “Did you just say ‘no Missouri Compromise’? As in the deal that possibly put off the Civil War and freeing the slaves by about 40 years? The deal that made slavery legal below latitude 36.30?”

“Um, yeah,” she grimaced, “but it also gave us Maine.”

“I don’t care about Maine! We’re talking about millions of lives affected here, Lucy.”

“Perhaps Rufus is right.” Flynn said from his spot on the windowsill. “The Louisiana Purchase did contribute to the spread of slavery across the United States. If we prevent it from happening…”

“I thought you were done trying to change history?” Wyatt said.

“It also caused President Jefferson to admit the Constitution could be interpreted more loosely to enable the US to take possession of land from foreign countries. Before Livingston negotiates this deal he believed in a strict by the letter interpretation of the Constitution.” She turned to Rufus, “Napoleon reinstated slavery in 1802. If the land stays in the possession of the French, there’s no guarantee it would change anything.”

Rufus threw up his hands. “I hate this.”

Lucy reached out a hand to his shoulder, “Me too. There is one consolation: Haiti gains its independence in January 1804 and becomes the first nation born out of a slave revolt. Napoleon gives up his idea of expanding his empire in North America.”

“Doesn’t really make me feel any better.” He sat back down and leaned his head on one hand.

“I know. I wish we could do more,” Lucy sighed.

“So we’re agreed then?” Wyatt asked looking around.

Rufus threw up one hand in a conciliatory gesture.

“I’ll take the first watch,” Flynn said.

“I don’t think I’m going to be sleeping much tonight,” Lucy sat down on the bed and checked on Livingston.

“Right, I’m gonna go patrol the perimeter. We still don’t know who we’re looking for.” Wyatt grabbed his gun from the nightstand and headed out the door.

“I’ll come with you,” Rufus hurried after him. “Better than sitting around here waiting for something to happen.”


	5. The Contingency Plan

Flynn cleared his throat and continued to look out the window.

Lucy looked up from the bed. She stood up swinging her arms back and forth slightly. “I’m sorry. For leaving earlier.”

Flynn lifted a shoulder and gestured to the bed, “We still found the guy.”

“Yeah, no thanks to me.”

He shifted. “So, do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” she paused, “but I’m glad you’re here.”

He smiled.

There was a moan from the bed. Lucy ran to Livingston’s side. “Mr. Livingston?”

He looked up at her. “I don’t care what you want. You’re not getting it.”

“No, Mr. Livingston, we’re here to help.”

“That’s what he told me when he bashed me over the head.”

“Yes, and he’s very sorry about that.”

Flynn came forward. “We do need to protect you, though.”

“A fine job you’ve made of it too,” he gestured to the gun, “It would be a bit more convincing if you put that away.”

“Yes, well, we can’t have you escaping either.”

“Mr. Livingston we just need to make sure you sign that treaty tomorrow. And in order to do that you need to be alive.”

Livingston drew his brows together, “What do you know of it, girl?”

“I know that this will double the size of the United States. I know that it will lead the country in a whole new direction.”

“Well I won’t be able to sign it if I’m to be imprisoned here.”

Flynn took a step forward in anticipation.

“Please just stay with us tonight,” Lucy interjected. “Tomorrow we’ll let you go and you’ll never see us again.”

Livingston harrumphed and sat back down on the bed. “I suppose you’re going to knock me out again if I don’t agree.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Flynn growled.

Lucy placed a hand on his chest.

“Call off your dog. I’ll stay for tonight, but there will be hell to pay if I’m not let go by the morning.”

“Good,” she let out a sigh of relief.

**

“You okay?” Rufus asked. “Back at the ball, you seemed a bit on edge.”

“I’m fine. Let’s just focus on the mission.”

“Okay then.”

Wyatt pulled him close to a wall and pulled out his gun. “I recognize that guy from earlier,” he motioned with his head.

Rufus peeked around the corner. “Dude, that’s Napoleon.”

“What? _That_ guy is the leader of France? He looks like a math teacher.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think we want to tangle with that math teacher.”

Wyatt tucked his gun away and watched as Napoleon looked around. He spotted them and his eyes lit up.

“Excusez-moi. Où est la belle dame?”

The two exchanged a look.

“Um, what?” Wyatt asked.

Napoleon’s gaze narrowed. “Anglais?!” He came forward suddenly and caught Wyatt by the front of his coat shoving him up against the brick wall.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Rufus tried to diffuse the situation. “We’re with the American, um, Livingston!”

Napoleon relaxed. “Livingston? How do you know him?”

“We’re…” Rufus looked at Wyatt trying to come up with an explanation. “…soldiers. Security.”

Wyatt nodded quickly.

“Ah, apologies,” he let go of Wyatt and dusted off his coat. “Can never be too careful. But I saw you with a lady earlier.”

“Oh, yes, she’s Livingston’s… cousin,” Rufus supplied. “Visiting.”

Wyatt spoke a look at Rufus.

“She left so quickly I did not get an introduction.”

“Oh.”

“Now if you gentlemen would be so kind as to point me in her direction, I will be on my way.”

“Um, we can’t do that,” Wyatt said.

“And why not?”

“She wasn’t feeling well,” Rufus was getting more nervous the longer the conversation persisted.

“Come now,” Napoleon gave them a half smile, “surely a young… unattached lady… would prefer my company to Livingston’s.”

Wyatt was getting tired of his cocksure attitude. “Actually her _husband_ is taking care of her.”

Rufus’ eyebrows shot up.

Wyatt gave his head a small shake.

“Ah, c’est la vie.” He thought a moment, “Would you care to join me for a drink?” He gestured to the street.

They exchanged a look.

Napoleon threw an arm around Wyatt’s shoulders. “Surely you will not break my heart and snub me all in the same night?”

Wyatt gave him a tight smile. “Lead the way.”

**

A few hours later Flynn was perched on the windowsill again, Lucy in a chair feeling absolutely bored but not the least bit sleepy, and Livingston was snoring on the bed.

“He doesn’t seem nearly as concerned about his safety now,” Lucy observed.

“I saw him sneaking a few nips earlier. So I added a bit of something to his flask when he wasn’t looking.”

“Of course you did,” she rolled her eyes. “This is a nightmare.”

“Why? Because you’re stuck here with me?”

She shook her head, “No. Because I thought we were done with all this. We beat Rittenhouse! We were positive there were no more operatives. I don’t understand who or what we’re up against now. Did we miss someone? Are they worse?” She stood up and started pacing. “I keep thinking about Jiya’s vision and what it could mean.”

He pushed himself off the windowsill and stopped her with an arm across her chest. Her eyes were wide when they met his and his heart beat a little faster. “We’ll figure it out. Remember I’m supposed to save you.”

She looked overwhelmed.

That was his breaking point. He pulled her to his chest and held her tight, dipping his head to her hair. “It’ll be alright.” Her arms came around his waist and she relaxed into him. He closed his eyes thinking of all the times he had wanted to hold her exactly like this.

She let herself be held. Finally. She still wasn’t sure of herself but this was good, and it felt right, so she forgot about all the complications for a moment and lived in the moment.

The door crashed open and Flynn shoved her back simultaneously drawing his gun.

Two men stalked in aiming a couple of Ruger 9mms at Flynn and Lucy.

“La fille!” the first shouted and rushed toward Lucy.

Flynn fired off a shot before the second slammed into him.

Livingston startled awake to the sound of gunfire. He scrambled off the bed and tried to cram himself into a corner of the small room.

The first man grabbed Lucy by the hair and dragged her toward the door.

“Flynn!”

The other man was on top of him pointing his gun at his head. He flipped them and punched his jaw, knocking him out. He grabbed his gun where it had skittered across the floor.

Looking toward Livingston he pointed with one finger, “You stay put.”

The other man nodded, scared out of his wits, and Flynn rushed out the door. Lucy was being yanked down the hallway. He stopped and aimed his gun but she was in the way.

“Dammit!” He rushed after them.

Coming out the inn he saw the men crack her over the head. She crumpled and he flung her onto a horse, swinging up after.

“Lucy!” He rushed after them but was no match for the horse’s speed.

“LUCY!”

Wyatt and Rufus came into view, singing a bawdy tavern ballad with a slightly drunk Napoleon.

Wyatt was on instant alert. “What’s going on?”

“They took her,” Flynn gasped, “It was a setup. They were only after Lucy.”

Rufus set Napoleon down on the cobblestones. “Where?”

Flynn pointed, “That way, but he’s on a horse and Wyatt,” he looked with regret to the other man, “she’s unconscious.”

“You need horses, mon amie?” came a slurred voice. “I have horses, many horses!”

“Who is that?”

That’s uh,” Rufus put his hands on his hips, “That’s Napoleon Bonaparte.”

**

“Are you sure we can trust this guy?” Flynn whispered.

“Well, no, but what choice do we have?” Wyatt led his horse around a sharp corner.

Napoleon had ordered his guards to give them whatever they wanted and after going back to the inn to glean any information off the dead man, they were soon on their way; with a slowly sobering Napoleon in tow.

“I still think we should have left him behind,” Rufus said.

Wyatt looked at him, “You try telling a narcissistic ruler he can’t come along to rescue the lady he’s developed a crush on.”

Flynn nearly dropped his reins. “What?”

Wyatt rolled his eyes.

 Flynn looked back at the inebriated ruler. “Livingston said he recognized the dead man. A pirate. Does the name Pierre Lafitte ring any bells?”

They shook their heads.

“We’ll check the harbor first,” Wyatt said. “Split up. Shout if you see anything.”

They all nodded and dismounted.

“What about him?” Rufus hitched his head toward Napoleon who was still a bit unsteady on his feet.  

“I’ll go with the husband!” Napoleon smacked surprised Flynn’s shoulder. “Come, we will catch this villain.”

“You told him I was her husband?” Flynn whispered to Wyatt, unable to resist taunting him.

He glared. “Rufus had already told him we were soldiers.”

“Not her brother, or a cousin…”

Wyatt glared, “You’re not going to be anything if we can’t find her. You and Napoleon go that way.” He pointed down the banks of the Seine and he and Rufus went the other way.

He looked at Napoleon, “You’d better keep up.” He ran toward the docks.

There were too many ships. Flynn stopped to gather his bearings looking from one ship to another, to another, gun in hand.

“Dammit! LUCY!” He shouted, hoping she had come around. He listened hard and in the distance there was a scream. He gasped in relief.

His boots pounded the pavement. No thought was in his head other than getting to her. Damn the cost of rushing in headstrong.

He saw her, kicking, and punching, and shouting as a man pulled up a gangplank. He stopped to aim and popped off a shot. The bullet only clipped him though and he continued to pull Lucy to the ship using her as a shield.

“Lucy!”

“Flynn!”

The man raised his hand and shot in Flynn’s direction. Lucy flung her weight into him at the last second and the bullet grazed his shoulder instead of lodging in his chest. He grunted and continued running.

The man flung her to the deck and repeatedly pulled the trigger. Flynn dodged and rolled, coming up in a singular smooth movement and let several shots fly. He dove to the deck, bullets going over his head, as Flynn came up the gangplank. Lucy was already on her feet again. He grabbed at her legs, tripping her.

Flynn jumped on him, gun skittering, and they rolled across the deck. Lucy was quick to grab it but didn’t dare aim for fear of hitting Flynn.

The man pushed his thumb into Flynn’s wounded shoulder and pain shot through his body giving the man enough of an edge to come up with a gun to his head.

Flynn froze.

“Stop!” Lucy yelled, pointing the gun.

He spun Flynn around and used him as a shield.

“It’s over,” she said. “Whoever you’re working for, it’s over.”

He sneered, “You think Rittenhouse didn’t have a contingency plan? As big as they were? You think you can take out a few people and it’s over?”

Flynn met her eyes. He knew this wasn’t going to end well. He wanted to tell her he was happy he got the extra time with her. He was grateful. And he was content. She would eventually forgive Wyatt and they’d be happy. That was all he wanted. For her to be happy. He took a breath.

“Take the shot, Lucy.”

“What?”

“Take it. I’m living on borrowed time anyway.”

The man pulled him closer shoving the muzzle against his temple. “All I want is the girl.”

“Well you’re not getting her,” Lucy said and sucked in a slow breath.

Flynn closed his eyes.

Lucy let her breath out slowly and squeezed the trigger.

The bullet flew and time stopped.

It grazed Flynn’s cheek then buried deep in the man’s forehead.

Lucy walked forward, gun still trained on him. “Did you think _I_ wouldn’t have a contingency plan?”

“You’ve been practicing,” there was a smile in Flynn’s voice.

She turned to him. Lowering the gun to her side she grabbed the front of his waistcoat with one hand and pulled him down, pressing her lips to his. His arms immediately went around her. Her hand stole up and she ran her fingers through his hair pulling him closer. Her mouth opened when his tongue ran along her bottom lip and they both gasped at the contact. She pressed her body closer and moaned.

Someone cleared their throat.

They broke apart and she looked over his shoulder to see a rather embarrassed Rufus standing on the deck. She ran forward and enveloped him in a hug. “Where’s Wyatt?”

“He, um, saw you two and thought it would be better to head back to the inn.”

She pursed her lips.

He lowered his voice, “For the record, if you’re happy then I’m happy, but Flynn?”

“Yes, Flynn.”

He blew out a breath and looked across the deck. “If you go dark again I’m going to leave you stranded in time, somewhere… not pleasant.”

Lucy jammed an elbow into his ribs.

Flynn smiled to himself and dipped his head. “Understood.”

“Damn straight.”

The three of them walked down the gangplank, Flynn’s arm around Lucy’s shoulders.

**

“So Jean and Pierre Lafitte? Who were they?” Wyatt asked when they had reconvened in the inn.

“Pirates,” Livingston piped up. They had all been surprised to find him still in the room when they returned. He poured them each a drink. “Thought they only operated in New Orleans though.”

“Something, or someone, must have brought them here,” Flynn said, watching Lucy across the room.

“They weren’t _supposed_ to be here. The Lafitte brothers smuggled slaves into the United States and were pirates in the Yucatán and South America for nearly two decades after this. I’d just like to know who they were working for.”

“Slave traders, well that’s something,” Rufus saluted her with a glass of dark liquor.

“He said they were a safeguard. Perhaps they were an offshoot of Rittenhouse.”

Wyatt shook his head, “Agent Christopher was positive all of Rittenhouse had been dismantled.”

Flynn raised his eyebrows, “Dismantled? Or destroyed? There’s a big difference.”

“Well whoever they are, they wanted me. Again.”

Livingston shook his head in disgust. “Dear girl what did you get yourself mixed up with?”

“Not important. But, ah, Mr. Livingston, you should be safe to go back to your hotel now,” she said rising and setting her glass down. “I’m going to get some air.”

Wyatt popped up, “You shouldn’t go alone.”

She looked at him for a moment then nodded her consent.

Flynn watched them go with a wistful look in his eyes.

**

 They walked in silence under the brightening sky. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted on the air. A cat crossed their path chasing a leaf.

Lucy took a deep breath and turned to Wyatt. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Wyatt shook his head and stared out over the river. “You don’t awe me an apology, Lucy. I saw this coming a long time ago.”

“You did?”

“The way you were acting when Flynn was gone, I recognized it.” He turned to her. “It’s the same way I acted when I lost Jessica. I couldn’t watch you do the same thing to yourself.”

“I was that obvious?”

“Well, then there was that kiss you gave him back in 2014. Not exactly platonic.”

She sighed.

“I wanted to help you. But I knew there was only one thing I could do.”

“So you helped me get him back?”

He shrugged. “It was the least I could do after what you’ve been through.”

“Thank you, Wyatt.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

He held her briefly then pulled away.

“So what now?”

“Well, he makes you happy?”

She nodded.

“Good.” He smiled. “You of all people, Lucy, after everything, you deserve to be happy.”


	6. This is Real

“So, we sent Livingston back to the Hotel, made sure he signed the treaty and the Louisiana Purchase still happened,” Lucy finished.

“And you still don’t know who sent the Lafittes?” Agent Christopher asked.

“We were fighting for our lives, not a chance to interrogate them,” Flynn said.

“They could have been an offshoot of Rittenhouse,” Rufus said.

“Jean mentioned something about a contingency plan. Could there be another organization taking over?” Lucy asked.

Agent Christopher turned to Connor, “Do you have any leads as to who stole the mothership? The mothership you were supposed to have destroyed?”

“Never going to let me forget that are you?” he muttered.

“What?”

“Sadly, no. Jiya and I are working on a plan to figure that out. Now that Rufus is back perhaps we can put our heads together and, I don’t know, hack some systems?”

Christopher nodded.

“Hey guys, I think- Well look.” Rufus brought his tablet to the center table and enlarged an article.

“Napoleon often spoke fondly of a friend named Rufus whom he met one night in Paris. He spent many of his exiled years hiring men to look for him. When he died a note was discovered addressed to him,” Lucy read. She looked up, a question in her eyes.

“To Rufus,

I wonder where you are now, years after that night. Your disappearance troubles me. I searched for years in vain. I would have made you a duke had I known where you went. I see now it was fate that brought us together instead of me and your lady friend. I want you to know I cherished our conversations and have taken your advice under advisement though it does little good now that I have been forced to abdicate.

Rufus, this goes on and on. You must have really made an impression.”

“Wait,” Jiya straightened. “ _You’re_ Rufus? We studied you in school. No one knew where you came from or where you went or why you had such influence over Napoleon. You’re right up there with the disappearance of Agatha Christie!”

Wyatt clapped him on the shoulder. “Wow. What did you say to him?”

“I have no idea. I’ve wracked my brain and I can’t remember a single conversation with him from that night.”

“God that was good wine,” Wyatt huffed, patted him on the shoulder once more.

“Guess so.”

“So,” Jiya approached him slowly, “You still have that outfit right?”

Rufus smiled and affected a French accent. “Oui, mademoiselle.”

She stepped closer, kissed him, and smiled wickedly, “Good,” she said and skipped off to their room. He looked back at Wyatt, smirked, then raced to catch up to her.

“I think I’m going to go rest up,” Lucy thumbed toward her room.

“Are you feeling alright? I know this mission was more strenuous than usual,” Christopher looked at her with concern.

She nodded her head and looked around the room. As usual, Flynn had quietly slipped out when she wasn’t looking.

“You can talk to me, Lucy.”

“Thank you, but I’m okay. Really,” she said at Christopher’s dubious look.

“Alright, well, rest up. We don’t know what’s coming next.”

She smiled at Christopher and turned to pad back to her room.

**

Flynn’s door was slightly open. Music drifting out into the hallway from his record player. Of course, it was another sorrowful tune, Nick Cave’s Idiot Prayer this time. She couldn’t help looking in when she passed.

He was sitting on his bed, head bent over the journal. He was… oh god.

She pushed the door open further. “Flynn?”

He quickly shut the journal and scrubbed at his face. “Lucy, come in.” He gave her a false smile.

“Are you alright?” She reached forward then stopped. Now that they weren’t standing on the deck of a boat, adrenaline high, it felt different. She wasn’t as brave. And she was unsure of how he felt about her. She didn’t touch him even though her hand itched with the effort to keep still. “How’s your shoulder?”

“It’s fine.” He worked it back and forth, “All patched up. Just, ah, getting ready to lie down.”

“Oh. Good.” She turned to walk back out, turned back, took a deep breath, shook her head then turned to the door once more.

He watched her stop at the door once again, sighed, and decided to put her out of her misery. “I think you should probably sit down. Otherwise you’re bound to get dizzy.”

She bit her bottom lip, closed the door, and turned back. Not having anywhere else to sit, she perched gingerly on the bed beside him.

“So,” she looked up at him.

“So,” his hair fell over his forehead as he turned to her and spoke slowly, “Now is the part where you tell me it was the heat of the moment and we should just forget it ever happened.”

“What?”

“It’s okay,” he reassured her, trying to hide the catch in his voice. This was harder than he thought it was going to be. To have her so close and then slip away again. He could hardly bear it.

She reached out slowly and took his hand, “And what if I didn’t want to forget it?”

He watched her warily. “Lucy, we know how this plays out. Your journal, remember?”

“Forget the journal. It’s been wrong before. And it never said anything about Paris.”

He looked thoughtful. “No it didn’t.”

She twisted their fingers together. “So maybe you’re wrong about this.”

“Lucy-”

She put a finger to his mouth and took a deep breath. “This is real. You… dying. It made me realize what I wanted. Something I didn’t even know I wanted until it was gone.”

He enveloped her finger in his other hand and pulled her hand away from his mouth. What she was saying was impossible, but he didn’t stop her.

“I was miserable when you were gone, Flynn. I read and reread that note a thousand times just wishing I could see you again.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “And now you’re here. And I can’t find the right words to say anything.”

He pulled her into his arms. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s alright.”

 Her shoulders shook and her felt her chest expand with a deep breath. She mumbled something against his shirt.

“What was that?”

She lifted her head whispered into his ear, “I love you.”

Flynn stilled. Those were the words he’d been sure he’d never hear. He caught her by the shoulders and pushed her back to look in her eyes. “Come again?”

“I love you.”

Her eyes were red.

He sucked in a breath and looked at the ceiling trying to keep his own tears from falling. “I never in a million years thought to hear those words from you.” He looked down.

“You don’t have to say it back. It’s- it’s enough that you’re here. I just really needed you to hear that. I needed you to know you don’t have to do this alone. Not if you don’t want to.”

“Lucy,” he held her face in his hands, “I love you so much my heart can hardly contain it.” He bent and kissed her.

A smile broke out on her face and she reached to pull him closer, one hand tangling in the hem of his shirt.

He broke away, staring intently into her eyes, “And you’re sure this is what you want?”

She shook her head vehemently, “Absolutely.”

He kissed her again and they fell into a tangle of limbs on his bed.

**

Lucy turned over in bed. Flynn was asleep beside her. She watched him breathing in and out, marveling at the simple fact that he was still there, still alive. She drew a finger across his lips the memory of his kiss flaring in her mind.

“If you keep staring at me like that I promise you won’t be getting any sleep tonight.” His eyes came open.

She pursed her lips guiltily then smiled. “I like watching you sleep.”

He huffed.

“What? You look… peaceful. Happy.”

“I am,” he moved over her, enveloping her in his arms. “You have made me very happy, Lucy.”

“Good,” her face turned serious, “I’m still not going to give up on your wife and daughter, though.”

Flynn shook his head, “That’s in the past. We saw what trying to get them back, what trying to get your sister back, did to history; what it did to us. It’s time for me to move on from that. And,” he kissed her neck, “I won’t give _this_ up.”

She smiled and kissed him.

“I, ah, want to show you something,” he rolled over and pulled open his nightstand. Pulling out a piece of twisted metal he dropped it in her hand.

She examined it, “What is this?”

“A piece of the Hindenburg.”

“The Hindenburg? Why would you have that?”

“It was the night we met face to face, for the first time from your standpoint.”

“But what made you grab a piece of burning zeppelin amidst us trying to shoot you; you trying to shoot us…”

“Lucy, I had read that journal cover to cover about ten times by then,” he smoothed a lock of hair from her forehead and met her eyes with a serious gaze, “I had already begun to fall in love with you.”

She sucked in a breath. “But… you still tried to kill me. More than once.”

He shrugged. “I’m a complicated man.”

“Asshole.”

“Hey, you said I’ve changed.”

“True. But I can still call old you an asshole.”

He relented with a smile. “I’ve kept this with me because it reminded me of what I was fighting for. I knew we’d be able to beat Rittenhouse if I didn’t give up. But now there’s this other organization.” He flopped onto his back and threw an arm over his eyes.

“Hey,” she touched his chest, “we’ll beat them together. You’re not alone anymore. You have me. Hell, you even have Rufus, Jiya, and Wyatt.”

“Wyatt?”

“Yeah. He likes to bluster but he’s all talk.”

“But not Agent Christopher or Connor?”

She shrugged, “Anything’s possible.”

He rolled and pulled her close. “Now who’s being an asshole?”

She laughed and wrapped an arm around him. “We’ll do this together, Flynn.”

He huffed again, happy that he finally felt content; even with another disaster looming over them and the uncertainty of whatever this new organization wanted. He was happy to be here with Lucy because he loved her. And she loved him. His heart stuttered when he thought about it. This brilliant woman loved him. It was enough. He kissed her passionately and vowed neither of them would be sleeping the rest of the night.

 


End file.
